Heat at McCarran
by irtaco
Summary: The Courier's enjoying his time left, and the view, at McCarran. Then the Stealth Suit Mark II had to screw things up, as usual.


_Disclaimer: I do not, in fact, own Fallout. So screw off, lawyers!_

"Can I ask a question?" The voice of my Stealth Suit Mark II asked me as I sat, cleaning my sniper rifle. It was a hot day in the Mojave and most sane human beings were in the shade. Alas, the soldiers of Camp McCarran were led by madmen. Hence why I could lay in the shade of a tent on my bedroll, laughing as they drilled, ran and trained in the Mojave heat like the poor, whipped dogs they were.

"Sure, I guess," I replied, loading my magazine with hollow point rounds. The members of 1st Recon lounged around the tent I was in, enjoying the reprieve now that the Fiend's leaders were gone. 10 of Spades was cleaning his glasses, Betsy was napping, Sterling and Gorobets were playing cards, and Bitter-Root...

Bitter-Root was reading sans shirt on top of the table. I mean really, can't blame the guy. The heat was real bad and I would've done the same if I wasn't wearing Mark II. Of course, the fact he was wearing no shirt, tight pants and glistened with sweat made it _real_ hard to focus on my rifle. What can I say? I'm a guy, sue me.

"Why are you staring at Sergeant Bitter-Root's posterior?" She asked, lighthearted as usual. I froze, every vein in my body ran cold. I heard a whispered 'What?' from Sterling. I could feel 10 of Spades stare at me like I grew another head. Gorobets just shook his head, annoyed at his only day off before 1st Recon went to Camp Forlorn being ruined.

"W-what did you just say?" I asked, hoping it was just my imagination. My fucked up, all too real imagination.

"I _said_, why do keep staring at Sergeant Bitter-Root's posterior?" Mark II replied, annoyed. I gulped, realizing this wasn't imaginary. SHIT.

"Mark II! Shut up!" I shouted, twisting around, trying to find the off switch. I heard snickering from the bed where Corporal Betsy laid.

"I don't understand! Why are you-_ohhhhhhhhhh_. I get it! It's one of those human 'romance' things!" She exclaimed, all happy with herself over figuring it out. I flushed red, partly out of anger, mostly out of embarrassment. I mean, fuck, the whole base was gonna hear at this rate! Betsy's snickers turned into barely contained laughter at my expense.

"Mark II! Seriously! Shut up! _Shut up!_" I screamed, frantically looking for an off switch, a mute button, something! More noise came from Lil' Miss Butch over on the bed.

"That means...you want to mate with Sergeant Bitter-Root! But...how will that work? Dr. Dala said that you need a female and a male to produce offspring, so..." Mark II asked, more confused than ever. I didn't think it was possible to die of embarrassment, but if it was, I was close. Betsy lost it. She let out howls of laughter, clutching her sides.

"Mark II! Betsy! Shut the fuck up! _Please_!" I screamed, begged, more red than ever. Then I heard the exhale from behind me. I turned around to find Bitter-Root on his feet and looking down on me. Was...was he _blushing_?

"Um...can-can we, uh, talk?" He mumbled, grabbing my hand and dragged me to my feet. My rifle clattered to the ground, long forgotten. I stumbled after him, my mind a blank. He drug me to a spot by the wall, away from sight of the rest of the Camp. I gulped, figuring he was gonna beat me. Instead, he put his hands behind his back and looked towards the ground.

"Courier, John, Do-do feel for me like that?" He whispered, shaking a bit. He was scared, I realized. He wasn't used to things like this. For some strange reason, this made me smile. I took a step closer. He looked up.

"Yes I do, Sergeant. You bet your ass I do." I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. Bitter-Root's breath hitched a bit before he responded. He grabbed me and held me close as our tongues battled for dominance. All was as it should be.

"Are you making babies now?" Mark II asked, shocking us out of our embrace. I responded the best way I could.

* * *

><p>"<em>For fuck's sake Mark II.<em>Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

xx-xx

Elsewhere on base, Private Christina Morales bolted from her bed. Shocking her friend "Rat" from her sleep. She looked around the barracks, wondering where she felt it from, ignoring her friend's complaints. Grinning, Morales hopped out of bed, Rat in hot pursuit. She smelled the sweet smell of yaoi...

* * *

><p><em>Well guys, thanks for reading it! This is my first "real" story, New Year's at The Tops being a test. I love the banter of all the characters in Old World Blues, especially the stealth suit. I just had to write a story with it. I hope I kept the characters in, well, character. So, please review. I'm open for criticism, so go nuts. Thank you again.<em>


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